


Cause I'm a Man

by KingdomCrumbs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Charles You Slut, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingdomCrumbs/pseuds/KingdomCrumbs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finally reaches the hiding place of the Sorcerer's Stone in Hogwarts, but is shocked to find a professor he never expected... and the dark lord John Hamish Watson himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cause I'm a Man

**Author's Note:**

> For MY MAIN HOE!
> 
> SHERLOCK

    Harry trudged through the hot, muggy darkness in a corridor that didn't seem to end. He tried to force the memory of his best friend, a red headed god among men, Ronald Weasley, falling from his great steed. The memory of it caused Harry to suddenly fall to his knees and erupt in a great and terrible scream. Through the blinding emotional pain, the murky image of Hermione appeared to him, and he heard her voice:

"Me... All books and cleverness. There are more important things. Like friendship, and bravery."

    He felt strength surge through him and he stood to his feet, shaking and clutching himself, blinking back tears. Ron will be alright. And when he got back, he would wrap the fiery-haired boy in his long arms and give him a proper loving.

    He trudged forward, feeling a sudden gust of cold air, a chill that reached his very bones. He walked forward carefully, searching around in the darkness with his wide, bulging eyes for any possible enemies. Blue light illuminated the end of the corridor, and then the great high walls of a new room. He continued to search the shadows, eyes slowly adjusting, when suddenly they landed on a figure standing before a mirror-- it was the Mirror of Erised. Suddenly his scar began to burn.

    The figure was tall, gaunt, his long and heavy black coat almost sweeping against the floor as he twitched and muttered before the mirror. His curly black hair bounced lusciously as he continued to shake and murmur-- and then he suddenly stopped. His entire figure became rigid and he stood straight as an arrow.

"Potter..." came a low and sweet voice, echoing off the walls of the great room. A chill ran through the young boy as he recognized the man.

"Professor... Holmes?" he questioned softly.

"Call me..." he whipped around in a great flourish. "Sherlock."

    The tall, thin, pale British man stalked toward Harry, who took a step back.

"No, it can't be you... It was my Snape--"

"No, dear boy. It was I. But no one would suspect old, lizard-looking Sherl now would they? I predicted every move using my incredible deduction. I was ahead of everyone, and that includes you, Potter. Foolish boy. Normal people never do see what I see," he sneered. He whipped around back to the mirror, long boney arms wrapped around himself, as if in a hug. "Oh, yes, all I've wanted is the rock. For... for..." he trailed off, hands reaching up to caress the back of his head. "... _US"_ he finished in a hiss. "But how do I find it?"

"Use... the boy," a whisper suddenly echoed through the great room, chilling Harry to his core. He was unsure where the voice had come from.

"Who was that?" Harry called out, ready to turn and run.

    Sherlock, trembling, squatted and continued to stroke his own head. He whispered something, and it sounded almost as if two voices were muttering. Suddenly, Sherlock reached out a great pale hand and Harry was flying through the air toward the mirror. He landed on the cold stone just in front of it.

    The British man stepped up close behind Harry, his breath against his neck. He could feel Sherlock's strong arms rubbing his young ones. Harry was surprisingly aroused by this. He gently leaned back against Sherlock, who exhaled loudly.

"Potter..." he sighed. Then he suddenly snapped back into action, and shoved Harry closer to the mirror. "What do you see?" He shouted.

    Harry stared into the mirror, waiting. He saw himself, in the reflection, turn to Sherlock behind him and embrace him. The two men began to passionately kiss. Harry gasped as he witnessed his wildest fantasy happening before his eyes. It continued, and then suddenly Sherlock cried again: "Tell me, what do you see?!"

Harry jumped and cleared his throat, his mind searching for a lie. "I'm shaking hands with Snape... He is my true father..."

The terrible, nasal, mystery British voice echoed again: "He lies. Let me speak to him."

Sherlock squatted again, arms wrapped around his head. Gently, he said, "Master... Master you are not strong enough."

The voice chuckled. "I was a soldier. I killed people."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You were a doctor."

"I had bad days!" came the terrifying, loud response. Sherlock flinched as if he were expecting punishment. "Now..." it continued in a hiss. "Let me speak. I have strength enough..." there was a pause. "...for thissss."

    Dutifully, Sherlock began to tug at his dark locks. Harry watched in confusion as Sherlock whimpered and whined, until finally his hair came off. Harry let out a squeak of surprise, but realized that the hair was actually a toupée. He heard a large intake of breath, a raspy, rattling inhale, and saw something moving in the mirror. The back of Sherlock's head was stretching and suddenly-- forming a face. Tiny, beady eyes formed, a large, round nose, and a mustache. Harry stumbled backward in horror. 

"J-John Watson?" he asked in a whisper.

The face cackled. "Yes... You see what I've become. See what I must do to survive. Live off another, a mere parasite."

"W-why are you here? Why are you living off of Sherlock?"

"We wanted to become closer," said Sherlock with a smirk."Welcome to our twisted mind palace," howled the back of Sherlock's head, breaking their moment. He took a swift step forward and lifted up Harry's chin so that they were staring into each other's eyes.

_Kiss me_ , thought Harry. 

"We know you have-- turn around Sherlock, dammit!" the head suddenly shrieked. "Yes, master, forgive me..." whimpered Sherlock, turning around and bending backwards so that John was staring at Harry. He continued, "we know you have the stone. It can give finally and truly unite Sherlock and I together, as well as giving us immortal life. Work with us, Harry. Give us the stone."

"Never!" Harry shouted at the ugly face. He saw Sherlock flinch on the other side, in the mirror.

John cackled yet again. "Bravery! Your parents had it too."

Harry took another step back. "How do you know my parents?"

"Don't you see?" began Sherlock. "We are your parents..."

    Harry put his hand to his mouth and made a sound of shock.

"No...! No!" Harry took a quick step forward and slapped his gigantic hand against John's face.

"Geh!" said the face. Sherlock stumbled backward, shattering the mirror. They fell on the ground, writing. Sherlock rolled off the broken glass and into a crouching position, pawing at the back of his head.  "We must have it! They stole it from us! Wicked, tricksy, false!" shrieked John.

"No..." said Sherlock more softly. "Not... master."

"Yes, Sherlock, false! They will cheat you, hurt you... lie!"

"Master is my friend..." whispered Sherlock.

"You don't have any friends!" mocked John. "Nobody likes you!"

Sherlock began to shake his head and put his long, pale hands over his ears. "I'm not listening. I'm not listening." He began to cry. "Go away... I hate you..."

The face became savage and furious. "Where would you be without me?! I saved us. Me, John! John! It was me. We survived because of me!"

"Master looks after us now..." whispered Sherlock, looking up hopefully at Harry. "We don't need you..."

"Wot," replied John.

"Leave now..." Sherlock began. "...and never come back!" John growled in response. "Leave now and never come back!" Sherlock shouted, stronger. "Leave now, and never come back!" He howled. There was a strange silence. Harry stood to his feet, gazing proudly at his father. 

    Suddenly, Sherlock bounded across the floor and began bucking up his hind legs, shouting in triumph, "Gone! Gone! Gone!" He rolled in the dirt, scratched at the floor, and galloped to Harry's feet. "Sherlock is free!"

    They stared at each other for a long while, mutual respect now shared between them. Harry bent down and laid a hand on Sherlock's bald head. "Good job," he said happily. But then suddenly the flesh on Sherlock's bald head bit him.

"You cannot kill me!" howled John, flinging himself as well as Sherlock's body directly at Harry. Pinned against the stairs, Harry was choked beneath the weight. He coughed and tried to suck in air, but all John did was laugh hysterically, madly.

    Harry, realizing that these might be his last moments, decided to indulge in the fantasy he saw in the mirror. Leaning forward, he closed the space between him and Sherlock and kissed him softly, trying to stifle the noise of him choking. Sherlock gasped gently, and then returned the kiss. It escalated, becoming more passionate, when suddenly Sherlock's face began to disintegrate.

"What is this magic?!" Harry's fathers screamed in unison.

Harry, smirking, pulled the rock out of his corduroy pants. "Goodnight... fathers," he whispered, and then leaned in for the final kiss. Howling, the two men fell into a pile of dust, which eventually slithered up the stairs and into darkness.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
